I Could Be Him
by distorted realities
Summary: [Companion to “Picture Perfect” and “I'm Still Here”]“Because every time I see him, I think of how easily I could be him.” Tristan reflects on his life and what might have been. UPDATED TO CORRECT A FEW GRAMMATICAL & SENTENCE ERRORS!


**Note: I fixed a few grammatical errors and lines that didn't make sense.**

_I Could Be Him_

**Summary:** "Because every time I see him, I think of how easily I could be him."  
**Disclaimer:** Nothing from the Gilmore Girls belongs to me.  
**AN:** This is my first attempt at GG Fanfic, so wish me luck. Now there are two companions to this story: "Picture Perfect" and "I'm Still Here"

I stand in the corner, trying to stay inconspicuous as I drink my scotch on the rocks. The only reason I'm even at one of these social functions is because my mother played the "I haven't seen my only son in three years" card. To be honest, I'm perfectly happy staying away from these things. That's why I love living in London. No one cares who I am there. I don't have to go to these parties and hobnob with a bunch of rich people always trying to one up each other. I still work for my father, of course. I am heir to his company, but London is so far away from the unhappiness society brings me. At home, if you can call this home, everyone is always trying to find out what I'm up to. I'm sort of the elusive enigma that everyone's trying to figure out. I used to be in the spotlight – the center of attention – and now you couldn't pay me to go back to that place.

I look up to see a blond hair, blue eyed man walking in with a gorgeous brunette on his arm. I know who it is because everyone knows who he is. Even in London you cannot avoid the Huntzenberger media empire. I've even had occasion to deal with Logan Huntzenberger – heir apparent to his father's throne. Honestly, he's not that bad a guy, but I get uncomfortable every time I am around him.

Why?

Because every time I see him, I think of how easily I could be him.

We aren't that different, he and I. Both only sons to families of great wealth, both playboys who could get almost any girl, and both with fathers who only care that we're doing exactly what they want us to do.

Did I mention that we also both fell for the same girl? The brunette currently on his arm, one Mrs. Lorelai Leigh Gilmore-Huntzenberger.

I have to be honest. I almost dropped the phone when my mother informed me of their engagement. The Rory I remembered wouldn't have gone out with a guy like Huntzenberger. But that was high school, and that was a long time ago. Since I found out about the engagement I've kept tabs on Rory. I wanted to know exactly how she had changed since I last saw her 10 years ago. She's a regular socialite wife now. I heard through the grapevine that she'll occasionally write an article for one of Huntzenberger's magazines, but she's content to plan out DAR events and play the trophy wife. That's one thing I never expected.

Why?

Because Rory Gilmore was one of the people who changed me. She saw through my bullshit rich playboy exterior. She was the one girl I wanted but could never get. And she made me realize that some things in life don't come easy. Some things require work.

She didn't live in society, and she didn't have everything handed to her. She didn't understand why we behaved the way we did. Why we looked for attention in inappropriate places. She had the family that we all secretly wanted.

Now you see why I never understood why she gave that up. Why she was willing to play the trophy wife. I guess you don't understand the constricting pressure of that life until you're in it. Its common knowledge in the gossip circles that Logan has been screwing around with his secretary for the last 3 months, and I'm sure Rory knows it too. But she's ignoring it like the society wife she is.

The hypocrisy of this life astounds me. Everyone in this room has everything, but at the same time they have nothing. Parents know nothing of their kids, and the kids see more of the family help than they see of their own parents. The girl with everything sleeps around to find the love she's missing from home, and the boy sleeps with the girl because for that brief moment he's actually feeling an emotion and living. Parents are so busy trying to one up each other and expand their influence that they lose track of each other. Wives find solace in gossip and their "friends," while husbands find solace in business deals and their secretaries. Tonight is probably the first night most of these husbands and wives have spent more than 10 waking minutes in a room together.

A voice wakes me from my reverie. "Baby, what's up?"

"I could be him," I answer, keeping my eyes on Logan and Rory making the rounds.

"You could've been him. But you're not."

She's right. I'm not.

Why?

The only difference between Logan and I is that I chose to reject the society life and go my separate way. But I was given that choice because I was sent away from home and away from the society. I was free to see who I was, and I was not the guy I had pretended to be for 16 years. I wasn't Tristan Dugrey, son of Michael and Teresa Dugrey – the richest family in Hartford; I was a plebe cadet that had to work his way through the ranks. There was no name recognition to slide me through. I had to prove myself and earn my way to the top, which I did.

Even though my father gave me the job heading up his company, I still proved myself capable of running it. I wanted to work hard and earn the respect of my employees. I knew that was the only way to really and truly succeed. I wasn't a rich boy who owns his daddy's company but has no clue what to do. I know exactly what I'm doing, and I'm part of the reason the London branch is more profitable than the New York or Hartford branches combined.

That one choice I made sent me down a path very few in my place have traveled. Rory's mother is one of them.

It's a hard road giving up everything for practically nothing. You're turning your back on everything you've known, and there really is no safety net. You may fail, and if you do, you'll have to pick yourself back up. But it's worth it in the end. You find the one thing that makes it all worth it – true happiness. No strings attached.

True happiness for me includes my wife and my children. Unlike everyone else in this room, I spend time with my children everyday. I have 4 year old twins – a boy named Jalen and a girl named Isabella. They know I'm their father, and they know they can come to me with anything. I've promised myself that I will keep track of what's going on in their lives. My wife is pregnant again, 6 months along; with a daughter we will name Rebecca who I will treat the same way.

My wife, Layla, is how I imagined Rory to be when we grew up. Strong, independent, and a woman who lets nothing hold her back. She's currently doing part-time work for Amnesty International from home so she can be there for the children. I met her at military school; her brother is my best friend. She knew me when I was still a cocky son of a bitch, and she's been with me through thick and thin. I couldn't ask for a better woman. She gives me everything I need. I'd be crazy to cheat on her with someone as meaningless as say, a secretary.

"Come on," I say with a smile. "I'll go introduce you to Logan and his wife, then why don't we duck out of here. We might be able to see the kids before they go to bed."

"Deal," she answers taking my hand.

As I lead her over to Logan, I realize the uncomfortable feeling is gone. In it's place, a feeling of contentment. I could have been like Logan, but I'm not. I may wonder what my life would be like if I had taken that path, but I know I wouldn't be happy. And I will never trade that happiness for anything.

**AN2: Okay, I don't know how happy I am with this. But the idea's been swimming around in my head for a few days. I hope you like it. Read and review please.**


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